Chapter 79 When Least Expected

October 1782…

General Tavington stole quietly back into his room just shortly after six in the morning. He had offered to help Mr. Barnes milk the cows this morning to give Mr. Andrews a break. He did the same for Mr. Barnes as well, generously giving each man a morning to stay in bed a little later. William's body was still used to keeping odd hours anyway from years of patrols with the cavalry.

The officer smiled as he spied his pregnant wife sleeping soundly in their bed. He shed his clothes down to only his breeches and slid quietly into bed next to Melanie. As she lie quietly on her back, he moved next to her, relaxing on his left side. He began to softly kiss her neck as his hand slid down to her rounded, five month pregnant abdomen. William's hand caressed her belly over the life growing within and he continued kissing her.

After a moment, Mrs. Tavington felt her husband's lips on her neck and turned her head to kiss him. Her eyes still closed, she smiled as she joked in a whisper, "How dare you awaken me! I'm sleeping for two now!"

"Sorry, I couldn't resist a kiss," Tavington murmured as he continued kissing his wife. His lips moved to the shell of her ear. She giggled softly as he nibbled on it.

"William," she said, pushing him gently away. "Let's go back to sleep."

With that, Will stopped kissing her neck and moved is lips slowly down her body over her chemise. Once at her belly, he pulled the skirt of her gown up to expose her swollen abdomen. He then began to kiss her rounded middle. Melanie smiled and looked down at her husband, and ran her fingers through his long dark hair that he had not bothered to queue back earlier this morning.

After a minute of soft kisses all over her belly, he began to blow playfully on the skin of it, tickling her and making her laugh. She tried to push him away.

The baby then kicked her twice inside—hard ones. Mrs. Tavington grabbed at her middle, alarming her husband.

"What's the matter?"

"Baby's kicking," answered Melanie.

William ran his hands over her belly, feeling for the movement from his child within her womb. His eyes widened and he let out a chuckle as he felt the baby kick hard against his hand.

"Oh…that was a hard one," the general said.

"I don't think he liked his papa waking him up," comment Mrs. Tavington.

"Go back to sleep, little one," said William as he rubbed his wife's middle and kissed it lovingly.

Tavington moved back up even with his wife and wrapped her in his arms. "You think the baby is a boy, hmmm?"

"Yes," she whispered, then gave her husband a small kiss. "I feel that it's a boy. And I want to give you another son, Will."

"Well, we will know in February," William whispered. "I can't wait."

Mrs. Tavington kissed her husband as she sank into his embrace. She laid her head on his chest and agreed, "Neither can I."

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Mrs. Wilkins and Mrs. Tavington sat on the green in the town of Devington in the mid afternoon. They were enjoying a picnic in the mild October warmth. Both had arranged for their children to be looked after while the two of them enjoyed a rare afternoon out. The village was bustling today with a large farmer's market selling the last of their summer crops.

Both women looked around for Josephine, the Wilkins' servant that had come with them into town today. Bridget had sent her around the town to pick up things for the household. The two friends continued conversing leisurely as they packed up their things.

"How is your search for a nanny going?" Bridget asked.

"Not well," Melanie replied. "We can't seem to find anyone we like—especially William. I think he wants someone born and bred in England. He still has such a distrust of some Colonials."

"I think Diedre does a good job with the children," Mrs. Wilkins commented. "Have you considered her?"

"Yes," Melanie answered. "We had thought of giving her all the nursemaid duties and buying a new indentured or slave to take her place."

Just then, Samuel, the Wilkins' slave driving the coach, approached the two women. "I'll take these back to the coach, Ma'am."

"Thank you, Samuel," Bridget said with a warm smile. The two women handed their picnic items to the man and watched him as he made his way back to the carriage to pack the stuff away.

Mrs. Wilkins and Mrs. Tavington made their way off the green toward a milliner's shop. They finally spotted Josephine, busy at the stall of a vegetable seller. The two friends decided to walk a little farther as they could see that the servant wasn't finished shopping.

The two looked into the window of the shop, adoring all the beautiful hats and ribbons on display. Bridget broke the silence.

"I sometimes can't believe that I could walk into this shop and buy any of those hats without a thought or care," Mrs. Wilkins said, almost sounding puzzled. "I was poor my life in Ireland and now I marry a wealthy officer."

"I think we are both surprised by how and who we married," Melanie laughed.

As the two friends turned from the window to walk on, they found their path squarely blocked. Mrs. Tavington looked into the face of the man now standing in their way.

Immediately recognizing the Benjamin Martin, a flood of emotions and fear rushed over her. She recalled her kidnapping at the hands of the militia. The young woman recollected her rough treatment at the hands of both the militia and the colonial regulars; the beating and her flogging. She remembered, with trepidation, being turned over to Colonel Burwell, who then raped her. Rumors that she'd seduced the leader to gain her freedom had still followed, even her own husband had asked her of it.

All the memories drowning her in an instant. Melanie was overwhelmed and immediately fearful. She put her head down, hoping the man would not want to speak to her and just move away.

"Well, if it isn't Hayden Prescott's daughter," the militia leader said. "I believe it's Mrs. Tavington now. Married to the Redcoat butcher of the Carolinas."

"Please let us by, sir," she requested meekly. With that, Melanie grabbed for Bridget's arm and attempted to pull herself and her irish friend past the man. He stepped to his side, continuing to keep the two women from moving on.

"Bordon's whore", he jeered. "What's the matter? Brutal Bordon couldn't keep you satisfied? Oh that's right. You couldn't marry him—he was already properly married to another woman."

Not wanting any further insult, Melanie again tried to pass around the man. "I'm sorry, colonel. I've nothing to say to you."

Martin grabbed her arm tightly and pushed the woman firmly back against the brick of the store's wall. The militia leader put himself in front of the woman again as she cowered back against the brick with no place to go. Bridget watched it all in wide eyed wonder, unable to believe what was happening.

"You couldn't marry Bordon because he got himself killed," Martin teased. "So you worked your way up the British chain of command and married his commander. I don't think your father would have given his blessing to that union—"

Melanie tried to push against the man to get away from him, but he shoved her hard back into the wall. Bridget, appalled at the treatment, spoke up.

"How dare you touch her," Bridget objected. "She's with child."

By this time a small crowd was starting to assemble. Melanie hoped that someone would step forward and help her and Mrs. Wilkins.

Benjamin turned his head to Bridget, giving her a hard glare. "You'd do well to stay out of this, you Irish redcoat loving slut!" Mrs. Wilkins was stunned that this man knew who she was, but figured he'd heard it through the army intelligence or from the local countryside. She took a step back, hoping the same as her friend: that someone in the crowd may come to their aid.

"My two sons and the Howard family cry out to me from their graves to avenge their wrongful deaths at the hands of your dead lover and present husband," he shouted. "My grandchild has come to me in my dreams. He wanted a chance at life with Gabriel and Anne."

Mrs. Tavington was aghast at the man's babbling, not knowing what to say. Before she could open her mouth, he went on, still in a loud voice that convinced Melanie that the group of spectators that had assembled around them could hear him. "Your husband will pay dearly for the lives of my oldest sons," he threatened, shaking his finger in her face. "Perhaps your house will burn as fast as mine and Charlotte Selton's did…..or as quickly as the church in Pembroke."

Josephine had finished her vegetable shopping and filtered from the market toward the crowd that had gathered near the milliner's shop. Once she was close, she found a break in the group and worked her way to the front. She was stunned to see that her mistress, Mrs. Wilkins and friend Mrs. Tavington were the center of attention. The servant began to make her way toward Bridget, soon reaching the trapped pair of women.

While against the wall, Melanie's hands slid to her abdomen, instinctively covering the gentle swelling of her belly, protecting the child within. Seeing all the people gathered around them, and with no one to step forward, Mrs. Tavington fought back, wanting to defend her family's honor and get her and Bridget out of there as quickly as possible.

"Sir, whatever my husband did during war time," she began, unable to hold back her voice, raised enough for those close by in the crowd to hear, "whether you deem it an atrocity or not, was an act of war. He had nothing personal toward you or your family."

"My family members were innocent victims," he yelled.

"YOUR family wasn't the only victims of war," she screamed back, snapping as she recalled the attack on her farm nearly three years ago. "My family was murdered by a group of rebels—"

"Zealots," Martin corrected.

"REBEL zealots," Mrs. Tavington shot back. "We were pacifists. And I remember a time where you were a pacifist, as well, not wanting this war or wanting to fight in it."

"I wasn't a pacifist," the militia man refuted. "I didn't want to be involved in a war again."

"Yes, I remember that day, in Charles Towne, during the assembly," Melanie began, "when you spoke out against it. Yet you got involved."

"I got involved because your husband killed my son!"

"That was a poor reason to get involved," Melanie yelled back. "Just to kill a redcoat who had killed your son during a raid? You're involved for revenge? Your agenda was less than honorable."

"I wonder how your husband would feel," the militia colonel asked, "if he were to lose his family; his children?" The man's tone was dark and ominous.

"Have you no decency, sir?" asked Bridget, wanting the man to go away from them.

"Let me through!" a woman's voice screamed. Melanie looked up from where she stood pinned against the wall to see a beautiful, blonde haired woman pushing her way through the small crowd. A large, muscular slave accompanied her.

The blonde woman addressed the slave. "Brooks, take Colonel Martin back to the wagon, quickly !"

Ben Martin suddenly pulled back and away from Melanie. She watched him, confused at what was happening. The militia leader looked up into the sky, as if he heard or saw something.

"Elizabeth? Thomas?" he asked turning his head and looking about.

Melanie and Bridget both breathed sighs of relief when they saw the dark hand of the slave clamp firmly down on Colonel Martin's shoulder. They were glad to see the militia leader willingly turn to follow the slave.

"You don't need to be worrying yourself with all this, Ben," the woman said to him. "Go with Brooks now." The crowd parted again as Colonel Martin was led through it toward his wagon.

Bridget and Josephine reached to take each of Melanie's arms, helping her away from the wall. Once again, her path was blocked, but this time by a woman. Mrs. Tavington recognized her as the former Charlotte Putnam Selton, but she had known her to now be married to her former brother-in-law.

Melanie, still charged up from being insulted publicly by Colonel Martin, glared at his wife. "Mrs. Martin," she began, breaking away from her friend and the servant, "You would do well to remind your husband that the war is over. It is in the past and that nothing can be done now about past incidents."

"He won't be of any trouble to you with the state he is in," Charlotte Martin defended, "he can barely function."

"He seemed quite lucid to me," Melanie shot back, upset that Mrs. Martin had dismissed her husband's threats and jeers.

Charlotte gazed hard back at Mrs. Tavington, then spoke. "You were there the night my house was burned down by your husband and his men. We were hiding. I saw you on horseback away from the group. You were blindfolded. I believe that's when you were Bordon's mistress. Your husband's band of rabble raped me out on the island, as well."

Melanie swallowed hard and said nothing. The two women continued their standoff, neither one wanting to give.

Mrs. Martin went on. "Do you really think I'd care if my husband were to hurt anyone in your family?"

"Then you would be as wretched as him and have blood on your hands," Melanie snarled.

"Like the blood that permanently stains yours, and your husband's," Charlotte Martin pointed out.

"Just be warned," Mrs. Tavington proclaimed, "that if your husband put a foot on our plantation or comes near our family, I know that William will harm him."

"I have no doubt he would," Mrs. Martin replied, "because he is a killer. A murderer."

With that, the woman picked up her skirts, turned and walked through the crowd.

Within an hour, Mrs. Tavington and Mrs. Wilkins were in the Wilkins' carriage and headed back toward their plantations. Melanie had become quiet and withdrawn since the confrontation had ended, upset at the wave of emotions that had washed over her. She was thinking of the memories of her family's murders, recalling her harsh treatment by the colonial army, remembering Alex, and thinking about the things she had seen her husband do as an officer. The flood of it all had choked the words right out of her.

Bridget was worried for her friend, looking forlornly at her as they rode quietly along in the coach. Finally, she could no longer take the silence. Seated across from her friend, she moved to where she was sitting next to Mrs. Tavington and took her hand.

"Melanie, you can't let what happened back there worry you," she began, "not in your condition. You've got to think about the baby."

Melanie nodded mutely, knowing her friend was right. Still, she said nothing, only letting out a troubled sigh.

"You did what a good wife would do back there," Bridget assured, "You supported your husband."

"I have heard about how your husband and Major Bordon performed their duties while on the battlefield," Mrs. Wilkins' informed. "Jim has spoken of it. Do you think I don't know who was made to throw the first torch onto the roof of the church at Pembroke?"

Mrs. Tavington looked at her Irish friend with alarm in her eyes. She was never sure if James had imparted that information to his wife or not.

"Jim didn't want to. He didn't always agree with the General and the major's tactics," Bridget stated. "But he did it because it was his duty. He wanted to follow orders."

Melanie reached for Bridget's other hand, both now holding both their hands. The two friends gazed at each other, each with tears dotting their eyes.

"We have nothing to be ashamed of about our husbands," Bridget affirmed, "and how they executed their duty. And now, they are both decent and fair businessmen, good husbands and providers to us, and excellent fathers to their children."

Melanie smiled and hugged her friend, then settled back into the seat. Her hand went to her belly and caressed it as she felt the child moving within her. "I'm lucky to have William," she thought. "I do love him so."

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Later that evening, Melanie sat alone in her room after the children had been put to sleep. She reflected on the events of the day. After the confrontation with Mr. and Mrs. Martin in the village, Mrs. Tavington and Mrs. Wilkins had ridden home in the Wilkins' coach.

Melanie had requested to be dropped off at her home instead of going back to the Wilkins' plantation. Once at home Mrs. Tavington spent time with the twins, had dinner alone, then retired to her room to wait for her husband to return. He had been with Major Wilkins at his brewery most of the day.

Now, shortly after nine in the evening, William entered his bedchamber to find his wife sitting on the window bed. He slammed the door and gave her a hard stare. Mrs. Tavington looked up to meet his glaring eyes, and knew something was wrong.

"What's wrong, Will?" she asked, getting up to her feet.

"I just heard that you were involved in a confrontation today in the village that drew a crowd," accused Tavington. "And I had to hear it from two of the Wilkins' servants speaking of it. Really, Melanie! Acting like a fishwife! That is below our station!"

"William, I—"

"I have got a business to run here," he said in a furious voice. "Your actions reflect on that! We both have past bad reputations that we are hoping will die. Actions such as yours today only calls attention to them."

"I didn't start it," Melanie said quietly, knowing she was no match for his husband when he was this irate.

"That doesn't matter!" William growled. "You should have never engaged in something like that. You should have walked away."

"I tried to," she pleaded. "It was Benjamin Martin. He confronted me. He blocked my path."

"Even more so that it was Martin," stated the General. "He is a dangerous man. I don't want you anywhere near him. You should have walked away and told me of it tonight."

"I tried to walk away," explained Melanie. "He pushed me against a wall and held me there. That is part of what drew the crowd, I am sure."

"He handled you?" asked William, his countenance changing to disbelief.

"Yes! Bridget spoke up, telling him that I was pregnant and to leave me alone," Mrs. Tavington answered, "but he wouldn't let go of me."

"He tried to say that your military actions were unjust," she continued, "acting as though you had singled out he and his family for some unknown reason. I tried to tell him that his family, and my own, were victims of the circumstance of war, that sometimes innocent people get hurt. I had to defend your actions."

Will sighed, then pulled Melanie to him. Holding her for a moment, he kissed her head, then tipped her chin up with his fingers to look down at her. "I can defend myself."

"I know," she relented, "But you weren't there."

Mrs. Tavington walked out of her husband's embrace and over to the window. She crossed her arms in front of her and shivered. "I'm sorry if I hurt our reputations, or the business with my actions," Melanie apologized. "But that man was so insulting of our honor today."

She took a deep breath, then let it out. Melanie went on. "He just seemed so Hell bent on revenge."

"Of course," Tavington said in a low, sarcastic voice. "He's crazy."

"Hmmmm…Is there something you haven't told me?" asked William's wife. "Mrs. Martin acted strangely about him, saying that he couldn't do much in the condition he was in."

William said nothing, still trying to take in that Martin had accosted his wife in public in the middle of the day. He wondered just how far the man's disease had progressed.

"Are we in danger?" asked Melanie. "When we were first married months ago, he sent that horrid letter to you. You promised me we were safe; that it was nothing."

"We're not in danger," said Will, turning away from her.

"Then why do you say he's crazy?"

William sighed, still looking away from Melanie. Obviously, she hadn't heard any rumors of the militia leader's sickness.

The officer turned back to his wife. "He has Syphilis. He's going insane."

"That may only be a rumor," Mrs. Tavington stated.

"No. It comes from Jim Wilkins, through his sister Adelaide," William remarked. With that he went on to tell Melanie about Ben's former slave mistress and how she and her mulatto child both died of the disease.

"Well, that explains why Mrs. Martin protected him and rushed him away," she stated. Melanie looked out the window over the darkness of the night. "When were you going to tell me all this?"

"I didn't think I needed to," William defended. "It would alarm you for no reason."

Melanie whirled back around to look at her husband. She glared at him. "William, we have two small children in there that need our protection," she reminded, pointing at the wall of the bedroom that joined to the twins' nursery. She continued as her hand went to her swollen belly, "And one on the way."

William unbuttoned her waistcoat and dropped it to the floor, then unloosened his neck stock. "Darling, the disease is so far advanced on him now that I am confident that soon he will be confined to the asylum."

"I hope you're right," said Melanie, "he made threats and—"

"Shhhh," General Tavington said as he drew his wife into his arms. "There is nothing to worry over. I will protect you and the children."

With that, William took his wife's mouth in a long, deep kiss then scooped her body into his arms. The officer carried her to the bed and laid her softly on it. Tavington laid down next to Melanie on the bed, both of them still with their clothes on.

"Now, no more talk of this," William murmured. "No more worries tonight."

"Yes, darling," she whispered.

As he resumed kissing her lips, he pushed the skirt of her dress up as her own fingers began quickly unlacing the top of her dress. After another moment both his hands and hers were pulling the top of her dress down off her shoulders. And soon she cooed as she felt his lips move down her neck to her breasts, where he sucked lustily at her dark pink nipples.

After a moment of this initial passion, a breath escaped Melanie's lips when she felt her husband's finger move to between her legs and slip easily inside her. In another minute, she smiled as she watched her husband part her legs with his knees, then position himself above her in between them. Her eyes drifted down to his waistband, watching him as he pushed his breeches down just enough to expose his stiffened yard.

His sapphire blue eyes were glazed over with lust as he gazed down at his wife. He took her left leg, raised it gently and placed her left ankle on his shoulder. The officer turned his head and nibbled the skin on it, making Melanie shiver. Tavington soon lifted her right leg and put her ankle on his other shoulder, where he kissed it and the calf of her leg softly.

William reached down and took his hardened manhood in hand, and teased Melanie's slickened entrance with the head of it. After only a moment's hesitation, he shoved his hardness into her, eliciting a lusty moan from her lips. Once buried deeply within her, he began to thrust slowly into her with long, lazy strokes.

Melanie responded with a joyful sigh. She arched her back, her head sinking back into the pillow, and closed her eyes. Then she moaned again. "Oh, William darling! I love you so much!"